


Sound Impact

by ItsYourLocalBi



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson, theatre - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst with a capital A, Bisexual Evan Hansen, Connor Murphy has Anger Issues, Connor Murphy has Depression, Discussion of Grief, Evan Hansen Has Anxiety, Evan Hansen Has Depression, Evan's dad is a dick, F/F, Fluff, Gay Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Ghost Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Ghost Evan Hansen, Greiving Murphy Family, Greiving Zoe Murphy, Grieving Heidi Hansen, I assure you, I repeat, Jeez, Jewish Evan Hansen, M/M, Mentions of Mass Shooting, Mentions of Suicide, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sort Of, Time Travel, Young Alana Beck, Young Connor Murphy, Young Evan Hansen, Young Jared Kleinman, Young Zoe Murphy, but seriously, kind of, that's a lot of tags, they do not stay dead, you all probably think you know where this is going, you do not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2020-10-19 18:30:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20661791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsYourLocalBi/pseuds/ItsYourLocalBi
Summary: "We could just jump. We're going to die anyways. Why not just steal our own thunder back. I bet we'd make the front page of a newspaper."And Evan doesn't call him insane."Do people even read the newspaper anymore?"





	1. Stealing it Back

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know I said I want to finish my other story before I post anything else, but this has been the main reason for my writer's block on my other story. So, take this in the meantime. It's happier than it seems, I swear.

Chapter 1

"What are you doing up here?" Evan heard a voice ask. "I told you to leave me alone." He looked around to see a figure in a jacket step out from behind a cell tower that protruded from the top of the concert hall.

"I-" he choked out, still rattled by the sudden adrenaline rush that had overtaken him. "I don't-"

"Oh shit, you're not Zoe," the figure said, stepping into the light radiating from the emergency lockdown signal. "But- what are you doing up here?" The guy asked him.

"There's-" Evan managed. "There are people with- with guns and explosives inside the building," he gasped out. The guy's eyes widened in alarm. "I got separated from my mom- and- and I saw the sign that said 'roof access,' and I had this weird moment where I thought, 'It's not like they're going to check up there,' and made a break for it, but I'm sorry for bothering you, but I'm also not sorry because then you might've gone inside and gotten hurt, so I guess there's that at least." Evan cut himself off before he talked the guy to death.

"Hey," the guy snapped, coming closer, and only when he reached out to steady Evan did Evan realized that he was shaking from the shock. Evan clutched at the cast that was hidden by the expensive material of the dress shirt his mom had bought for him for tonight. Everything was happening too quickly for him to keep up.

The guy's voice snapped him back to reality for a second. "Hey. What's your name?"

"Evan. Evan Hansen."

"Evan. Okay. Look at me." The guy's tone sounded like one that was trying to be gentle, but had forgotten how. Evan shook his head, keeping his eyes firmly locked on his arm. "Dammit, look at me," the guy repeated, harsher this time, grip tightening on his shoulder.

Evan's gaze snapped up to meet pale blue eyes filled with impatience and fear and concern. There was a brown spot in the right eye. He recognized those eyes. He couldn't remember from where exactly at the moment. He couldn't really think over how loud his breathing sounded.

"You're having a panic attack," the guy said flatly. Evan desperately fought the urge to say, 'Duh. I know, I get these at least four times a month.' Instead he just nodded. "Breathe with me, okay?"

Evan matched his breathing with the guy's, who was using the same breathing exercise that Dr. Sherman had taught him. He seemed like he knew what he was doing. Evan wondered why this guy was already up here on the roof for, and why he knew breathing exercises for panic attacks.

That's when it clicked where Evan recognized him from.

"What's your name?" Evan didn't know how his mouth had managed to say that correctly.

"Connor. Connor Murphy," the guy replied, using the same introduction Evan had.

Ah. Well. Great.

"I go to school with you," Evan blurted out. "We had the same math class last year? Mr. B?" Connor's eyes flashed with recognition.

"You were the kid who always had a charger in case someone needed it, right?" Connor asked. Evan nodded. "Huh."

They continued with the breathing exercises for a while until Evan was capable of standing on his own two feet with minimal shaking.

The sound of a small explosion startled both of them, rattling the building, making the roof shake beneath their feet.

"Fuck," Connor muttered under his breath, walking back over to the cell tower, and Evan followed, seating himself next to the significantly taller guy because he had nothing else to do, and being the only one standing felt weird.

They sat in somewhat awkward silence for a while. Evan didn't know much about Connor Murphy other than that he's Zoe Murphy's older brother. The rest of what he'd heard were from rumors that Jared mentioned.

However, he did know that Connor did get into fights sometimes, because last year he would occasionally walk into math class late with a black eye and bleeding knuckles. That coupled with some of the rumors he overheard about his explosive episodes, let him know that it would do him best to just stay out of his way.

Well. That plan failed.

Evan heard sirens in the distance and curled in on himself. He fingered his cast mindlessly. This was probably going to be how he died. Murdered on the roof of a concert hall.

"I can't believe this is how it ends," Connor said, voicing Evan's thoughts. "I never thought I'd be murdered."

"I tried to kill myself three weeks ago," Evan blurted out, immediately slapping a hand over his mouth. Shit. Why did he say that?

"Fucking what?" Evan flinched at the tone of Connor's voice. It startled a strangled little laugh out of him. He probably sounded insane.

"I tried to kill myself three weeks ago," Evan said again, clutching at his arm. He pulled back the sleeve to show his cast. "It didn't work. I mean- Obviously it didn't work, otherwise I wouldn't be here right now. But when I let go of the tree, I didn't expect to be murdered three weeks later." He let out a choked laugh.

Connor was staring at him like he had lost his mind. And maybe he had. But he had started this oversharing session, and now he couldn't stop. He hadn't told anyone, hadn't planned on ever telling anyone, but. Circumstance.

"It's not fair," he said, raising his arms and laughing angrily. "I've wanted to kill myself for how long? And now someone else is going to do it for me?! Am I just that pathetic?! It's like, I didn't even think I had thunder left to steal, and now it's being stolen! What the hell?!"

He finished his little rant with a dramatic flop onto his back. He was breathing hard, anxiety flooding through his veins. He had just told his darkest secret to a guy who was practically a stranger. Shit. He had officially lost his mind.

The silence dragged on until Connor broke it. "Damn, Hansen," he muttered. "Never thought you had that in you." He said it conversationally. Evan laughed.

"Yeah. But did anyone ever actually recognize me long enough to think I did?" Evan didn't know why he suddenly felt like he could just say stuff like this. To Connor of all people.

"Touché," Connor admitted. "But yeah, I get it. The whole having your thunder stolen thing."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Connor hesitated for a moment, before continuing. "I was gonna kill myself tomorrow. Now that plan is out the window."

"Really?" Evan asked, sitting back up. Connor nodded, humming. "Why the first day of school?"

"Thought someone might find it kind of funny. You know, first day of school, last day of being alive? That's got some kind of morbid irony right?"

Evan could appreciate the intended humor. He nodded, and this seemed to satisfy the taller boy. "This sucks," Evan sighed.

"Everything sucks," Connor said, almost agreeably.

"Yeah, but being in the middle of a mass shooting really sucks."

"You got me there."

"I hope my mom is alright," Evan whispered. If anyone survived this, he hoped it would be her. She had so much to live for. He was here tonight in the first place because his mom had been invited to this fancy lawyer dinner party that Evan couldn't remember the proper name of. "She doesn't deserve to die."

"I hope my sister makes it out alive. I mean- I hope my entire family makes it out alive, but if only one of them could, I want it to be her."

"Your sister is Zoe, right?" Evan asked as if it wasn't something he already knew quite well. Connor nodded. "I remember her creative writing project from English class last year."

"The one about the knight who was kidnapped by a princess who had escaped the mental ward, so the half dragon character had to come and save him?" Connor asked him, and Evan could detect a hint of pride in Connor's voice when talking about his sister's creative genius.

"That's the one," Evan affirmed. That story had made him actually genuinely laugh out loud. It was a good story. Connor let out a light chuckle.

The sirens were closer now. Evan heard multiple guns firing below them. They were getting closer.

"They're coming up here," Evan said, insides going numb.

"What are you talking about?"

"The guns are getting louder. They're moving up the floors. Why are they moving up? That doesn't make sense. They should be going down. They should be trying to get closer to the ground so that if the building collapses, they can get out quicker. Why are they coming up?" Evan was clutching at his cast covered arm desperately. "I don't understand- I don't-"

"Evan," Connor cut him off. "Get over here." Evan scooted closer to him, and Connor wrapped his arm around his shoulders in a very awkward and forced hug. "I am not good at this whole comforting people shtick. So please, stop hyperventilating, and- and- Just stop hyperventilating. It's making me angry."

"You really are bad at comforting people."

"Shut up."

This was the most sane Evan had ever felt, which worried him. It felt very natural to just sit there and be casual with Connor Murphy. Almost like there weren't people in the building below them that were coming up for some stupid reason. Almost like he wasn't mentally ill. Almost like he was going to survive today.

Evan didn't like it, but he couldn't really control it. He couldn't control anything, apparently. He couldn't even choose how he died.

"We could just jump," Connor said out of nowhere. Or, not really out of nowhere, but unprompted. "We're going to die anyways. Why not just steal our own thunder back? I bet we'd make the front page of a newspaper."

And Evan took a moment to register his words. And then Evan pulled back to look Connor Murphy in the eyes. And then Evan thought that maybe Connor Murphy was just as insane as him. And Evan. Didn't tell him no.

Instead, he went, "Do people even read the newspaper anymore?"

"Screw you, you know what I mean. I just want to have some fucking agency over my own death. Are you in or not?"

And Evan paused. Because this was the first time anyone his age other than Jared had invited him to do something. And it was to jump off a building together. And he was going to die either way.

He could die as Just Another Casualty In A Mass Shooting. He would only be survived by his mother, who would eventually be better off without him. Jared might wonder where he went, but Evan hadn't heard from him since the Fourth of July, when they had been at the annual picnic, so. Jared would be better off. And Dr. Sherman wouldn't have to worry about making sure Evan's brain was functioning anymore.

And those are the only three people who would remember.

But.

Connor was still looking at him.

If he went with Connor, people would remember. They'd definitely make at least one headline. "Two Young Men Commit Suicide To Avoid Death By Mass Shooting," or something like that. If he went with Connor, someone would see something that made a difference. He'd make a sound when he fell.

So he nodded.

"Okay."

And then he and Connor found their way to the edge of the roof. The night would be peaceful if it weren't for the sirens splitting the silence.

"Should we leave a note?" Evan asked. "Just in case someone wants answers?"

Connor pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. Evan didn't ask why he had paper. He could make a guess. He watched with an almost detached curiosity as Connor protruded a pencil from the confines of his jacket.

"What did you want to say?"

"I don't know, really. Maybe someone will actually care to wonder why we chose this option."

"Why did you choose it?"

"Why did you?" Evan had never had this much confidence before. Connor scribbled something down, before handing it to Evan, who gave it an approving nod. "It's good. Perfect, actually."

"It's not too deep, or some shit like that?" Evan shook his head. 

"It seems Zoe wasn't the only one who got the writing talent." 

Connor seemed pleased with himself. "Here," he said, handing the pencil over to Evan. "Sign it."

Evan wrote his name with a steady hand.

"Do you feel weirdly calm about this?" Evan asked him, handing the pencil back. Connor nodded.

"It's a first actually," Connor said as he folded the paper carefully. "I have anger issues. And depression. In case you couldn't tell." He said the last part with a weird smile, almost as if they were meeting under normal circumstances where they could worry about first impressions.

"Same," Evan said. "The depression, I mean. I have anxiety, too. It's a- kind of a confusing combination to deal with." He was sure his smile matched Connor's.

The roof beneath them shook again. The gunshots were still getting closer. Connor clutched the paper in his hand, squaring his shoulders.

"How do you want to do this?" He asked Evan. "Like, is there a way you want to fall, or, something."

Evan shook his head. "I don't know. I was alone when I attempted. Is there some kind of double suicide etiquette we should be following?" Connor laughed, the sound jarring and young and free, and Evan suddenly felt terribly sad that this would be the last time the world heard that laugh.

"Holy crap, Hansen, the random shit you say," Connor snorted. "I'm sorry I'm the last person who gets to appreciate that."

"To be fair, I'm pretty sure you're the only one who ever has," Evan responded, shrugging. Connor made a wounded noise.

"That was a sad thing to say." Evan knew this.

"I'm a sad person." Connor's face was one of understanding. He knew exactly what Evan meant.

"We should hold hands," Connor stated bluntly.

"I'm sorry, what?" Evan wasn't quite sure he had heard correctly.

"We should hold hands," Connor said, sounding out each syllable with confidence.

"Why?"

"For the symbolism, dude. We jump separately, it's sad, and says that we might not have done it together. We jump holding hands," Connor made an explosion hand gesture and emphasized it with a sound effect. "People eat up tragic symbolism. Spreads like wildfire. The message is more in your face and more of a mystery at the same time."

"Yeah, no that makes sense," Evan said, even though he didn't quite get it. "I meant, why would you want to hold my hand? I'm kind of really sweaty all the time, and I'm just gross. I don't understand why you want to be associated with me?" Why would Connor do any of this with him? The note, the suicide, it was all very thoughtful. It was going to mean something. Evan would have just sat there and gotten murdered.

"Because, Hansen," Connor explained. "I think, if we're both going to die, the last thing I can do is to help you get your thunder back. That's what you want right?"

Evan could only nod dumbly.

Connor's hand was pale and cold, as if he were already dead. He wore two metal rings. His nail polish was chipped. Evan's hand felt strange in his.

"I don't want to see the ground," Evan said. Connor made a confused noise. "That's how I want to do it. I want to see the sky. I want the sky to be all I can see. If that's alright with you."

"I don't mind. You're going along with my hand thing, and that's way weirder. Falling back is good."

"Good."

The air was cold.

The roof shook again.

Evan let out a deep sigh.

"Thank you, Connor."

Connor squeezed his hand.

"Right back at you, Evan."

The roof gave way to air beneath their feet.

Evan could see the stars.

Then everything went black.

Then white.

Is it supposed to do that?

________________________________


	2. Where Are We

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are confusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Okay, so writers block is a bitch, but I am at least one third of the way done with chapter 24 of Potentially Wonderful! In the meantime, have this!

Chapter Two

Evan could feel nothing and everything all at once. All his senses were muted, yet heightened at the same time.

He could hear thousands and thousands of sounds, ranging from the soft, yet distinct whisper of leaves rustling in the wind, to the angry pops of gunshots.

He could see flashes of light, scenes he recognized from his life, like his mom reading to him when he was little, and some that he didn't recognize, like the image of Jared genuinely smiling while handing him a remote control.

He felt every injury his body had ever taken hit him all at once, and immediately was soothed by the sensation of being held.

He could smell the scent of tacos that his mom tried so desperately to make on Tuesdays, but never could, so he always ended up eating them on the couch, alone.

He could taste the liquid iron of blood well up in his mouth, only to be washed away by the coolness of water. 

But it was all drowned out by the overwhelming nothingness that was crushing him.

Was this what being dead was?

He hoped not. If this was his eternity, he was probably going to have multiple panic attacks due to the sensory overload.

...

Could he even have panic attacks?

He was dead. Maybe. Probably. He was pretty sure you couldn't have panic attacks when you were dead. That would take some getting used to. As much as he hated them, panic attacks were a part of him, and it scared him to think what might happen instead.

What would happen instead? What's the opposite of a panic attack!? A calm attack? Is a calm attack even a thing?! What the hell is a calm attack?! Apathy!???!? Is a calm attack a fit of temporary apathy?!? What the-

"Hansen?"

"What?!" He startled at his own panicked screech.

The intense combination of everything and nothing drained away, leaving Evan with only the feeling of Connor Murphy's cold had entwined with his own. 

Connor's eyes widened, and Evan immediately felt bad, because there he was, freaking out about what this eternity would mean for him, when his partner in suicide was right there, most likely also freaking out. "I mean- uh- yes?" He asked.

"Where are we?"

"Do you really expect me to know that?" Well. Apparently his tendency to just spit out what he was thinking to Connor Murphy had transcended with him into the afterlife. Great.

"I mean, not really, no," Connor muttered.

Evan sighed.

It was quiet for a minute.

"Well, I guess, we're probably in the afterlife," Evan mumbled eventually.

"It's... not what I expected."

"What did you expect?"

Connor shrugged in response.

This was so weird. This was so freaking weird. The only solid thing he had to ground himself wasn't even ground, it was Connor's hand. He had nothing to stand on. It was like he was suspended in the nothingness, legs left to dangle beneath him. Were they beneath him? What was up or down when you were maybe dead? His head might be beneath his feet. That train of thought was stopped there, which he was grateful for, because it would have probably set him spiraling again, by Connor's voice.

"Hansen?"

"Yeah?" He responded, but it came out strangled and quiet, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "I mean- Yeah?"

"Was that door there a second ago?"

Evan turned to look where Connor was pointing and blinked. There was indeed, a door. An elevator door. The shiny metallic kind you see in those nice buildings on television that you'll probably never visit. The door hovered on eye level with the two boys, seeming to be waiting for something.

"..."

"..."

"... I'm gonna touch it," Connor announced.

"What? No!"

"Why not?"

"I-" Evan didn't know. He just knew that the idea of going anywhere near that door struck him as all sorts of bad. Like he wasn't supposed to go near it. "It doesn't feel right."

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't know. It feels-"

Before Evan could finish his thought, the door made a quiet 'ding.' The two froze as it slid open, barely making a sound. The inside looked exactly how one would expect an expensive elevator to look.

"It wants us to go in," Connor announced with a sudden certainty. Evan shot him a look.

"Connor, it's a door."

"So?"

"So how do you know what it wants?"

"I-" Connor huffed frustratedly. "I don't know, I just- I can tell, okay?" Evan watched him turn back to the door.

"Connor, we can't just go through random doors."

"It's not a random door, it's the mysterious elevator that appeared in the afterlife. And it wants us to use it."

"How do you even know it's real?"

"Well, I won't know until I touch the door."

Evan hated that he didn't have an argument for that. That didn't stop him from protesting, though. Just looking at the door made him feel like he was invading on something he shouldn't. "But-"

"Evan," Connor cut him off. And. Apparently, Evan was really bad at telling Connor Murphy "no."

"Fine," he mumbled.

Somehow the two made their way towards the door. It was like floating in a pool. Was floating the right word? No, it was wading. That was the only way Evan could describe the weightlessness, yet difficulty of his movements. The two waded towards the open elevator door. Once they got inside, their feet landed on the floor, and the door closed.

Evan turned to look for the buttons and froze.

"Connor?" He spoke, a tremor in his voice.

"Yeah?"

"Where are the buttons?"

"Shit, man." Connor ran a hand through his hair, twisting around to look for any hidden buttons, apparently coming up with nothing. "I don't know."

"What are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know."

"Are we trapped!?"

"Damnit, Hansen, I said I don't know! Quit being so paranoid!"

And that did not seem fair to Evan. Because hey, it was Connor's idea to go into the elevator, and now he was yelling at him like he had done something wrong. They were probably dead, for fuck's sake! Evan was more then allowed to be freaking out!

"Well, sorry that I'm freaking out over what the heck this all means, but I-" he broke off, chuckling angrily, "I think you might have forgotten that we just killed ourselves to avoid getting murdered! So I think a little paranoia is more than justified! Especially when we're in a weird afterlife elevator! So don't tell me to stop freaking out!" Evan shouted, all of his usual inhibitions abandoning him.

He saw Connor's shoulders tense, and his brow twisted into a fierce scowl, and Evan might have forgotten how absolutely terrifying Connor Murphy could be.

"I never told you to stop freaking out," he growled. "I told you to quit being so paranoid! I'm freaking out, too! So, forgive me, for trying to stay fucking calm when I don't know what the hell is going on!"

"If you don't know what's going on," Evan started small, then the anger and frustration took over, and he was yelling again. "Then why were you so convinced using the elevator was a good idea!?"

"I. Don't. Know!" Connor snapped.

"This is bullshit!"

"I know!"

"I don't know what's happening!"

"Same here!"

"I'm crying, aren't I?!"

"Yes!"

"Screaming helps!"

"I know!"

They shouted angry cries until they were just spewing nonsense.

"PINEAPPLES SUCK!"

"SCREW YOU, THEY DO NOT!"

"THEY ARE TRYING TO EAT YOU WHILE YOU EAT THEM!"

"YEAH, BUT WE DIGEST THEM FIRST!"

The two kept up the screaming match until their vocal chords gave out. Evan hadn't known that you could wear out you're vocal chords when you were maybe almost probably dead. That seemed unfair.

Evan slumped into the elevator wall. He used his free hand to wiped at the tears streaming down his face. Throughout the whole thing, he never let go of Connor's hand. It seemed to be the only thing keeping either of them remotely sane.

Eventually, he spoke up.

"Sorry for- for everything," he rasped.

"Fuck, man," Connor's voice replied, hoarse and brittle. "If anything, I should be apologizing. I got us trapped in this stupid elevator anyways." Evan noted quietly that Connor avoided actually apologizing, but he could feel the intent behind the words. He figured it was a lot better than anything he would have gotten if they weren't currently stuck in the same crappy situation.

They were like that for a while, breathing heavily. Evan found that he couldn't really feel any air entering or leaving his lungs, but the effect was still the same, like his mind was trying to calm him down.

He wondered what was happening in the real world right now. He wondered if his mom was alive. If the shooters were apprehended. Why they had been moving up? Had anybody discovered Evan and Connor's bodies? What would they say? What would his mother think? What would Jared think? What would Zoe think?

Evan wondered a lot.

After some time, the elevator door made that same quiet 'ding,' and slid open. Neither of them made a move to leave, until Evan was hesitantly leading the way through the opening. He still didn't like the feeling that elevator gave him, and he was more than happy to get out of it.

He blinked in the bright light for a moment, before his brain caught up with his surroundings.

They were in a kitchen. A really nice kitchen. Gleaming tile and stainless steel appliances.

"Connor?" He asked, looking back over his shoulder, only to see the taller guy staring at the kitchen with an intense level of concentration. He cleared his throat. "Do you know where we are?"

The look on Connor's face told him that, yes, Connor knew exactly where they were. He looked like he was opening his mouth to answer, when the sound of a door opening rang out through the room, and laughter filled the air. Evan and Connor froze.

Shit. Evan didn't want to have to explain to people that the only reason that there are two complete strangers in their kitchen is because they both were almost certainly dead, not because they wanted to rob them.

In through the hallway came a happy looking young couple, carrying a baby swaddled in a little yellow blanket. The baby, who Evan realised must be only a few days old at most, wasn't crying, which surprised Evan. Most kids, he had heard, were insufferabbly loud. But no, this baby was calm.

The mother, Evan assumed, scanned the room, eyes completely grazing over Evan and Connor. The young couple either didn't seem to mind having two strange young men in their kitchen, or they couldn't see them.

Evan would be willing to bet by now, that it was the second option.

Evan turned to Connor when he heard a sharp inhale. He was staring at the little family with wonder and fear.

"Connor? What is it?"

Connor was cut off again by the laughter of the young couple.

"Larry, look at him," the young woman breathed delightedly. "Isn't he just wonderful?"

The young man, who Evan assumed to be Larry chucked lightly, and kissed the woman's head. "Of course he is, Cynthia. He's our kid after all. He's only the third best person in the world."

"Whose first?"

"You."

"Second?"

"That Taco Bell worker who gave us a discount on our food because we both left our wallets at home."

"I should have known," the woman, Cynthia, smiled. "Don't worry," she said, turning to the baby in her arms. "He'll be even better than that. Won't you?" She asked the baby, who just blinked at her.

Cynthia shifted the baby in her arms in a way that reminded Evan way too much of how his mother was almost always shifting her things from one arm to the other in an effort to get things done before she had to leave for work again.

Evan watched as the couple just stood there in content silence, and Evan had to wonder why they were seeing this.

"Larry, I know you have doubts, but I really do think that this house was the best choice."

"I agree."

"I- really?" Cynthia seemed surprised. When Evan got a look at him, Connor looked surprised, too.

"This place is perfect. He'll have a room of his own to grow up with. We have a big back yard." Larry moved his arms as if he were painting a scene in the air, and Evan found he could see it. "We can have family movie nights in that living room. Maybe get a fireplace where we can roast marshmallows. We could get a pet in a few years. A dog. We can make it into what's best for us."

Cynthia looked like she was going to cry from relief. "You're right. Of course you're right." She hugged her husband. At least, Evan was about 99% sure they were married. He looked down at the baby, who was staring back up at him with piercing blue eyes with a spot of rich brown in the right eye.

And.

"This is the perfect place for Connor to grow up," Larry cooed as he embraced his wife and his child.

Oh.

Well. Evan understood why Connor seemed to know where they were, now. And why he was so out of it. Well, besides the whole being maybe dead thing.

The young couple, so innocent, so happy, so ignorant to what life was going to throw at them, tugged at Evan's heartstrings. He felt like he was intruding on something incredibly private. Like it was wrong for him to have witnessed the day his suicide partner's parents had brought him home.

He watched as Connor watched himself be carried out of the kitchen. Slowly, Connor turned to face him.

"What. The. Fuck."

Evan had to agree with that sentiment.

_______________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes? No? Tell me what you think and what you might like to see in later chapters!


	3. Reaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared finds out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof! Wow, it has been a while, and I cannot promise that the next chapter will be done soon. This chapter is kind of short, but it is very plot heavy. I hope its worth the wait.
> 
> That being said, enjoy!
> 
> TW: Explicit suicide mentions, suicide note, grieving, shock, hospitals.

Chapter 3

Jared walked into the Hansen household, not quite sure why he had been called out of school early on the first day. School had been delayed by a day due to the mass shooting at the concert hall on Sunday, and Jared was hoping that this didn't have anything to do with that. His mom had just told him to go to Evan's house. She had sounded close to tears, herself, so. Jared wasn't exactly optimistic about this house visit.

He just hoped it had nothing to do with the casualty count he had heard on the news last night.

"Jared, hi," Heidi said with a forced enthusiasm. Her eyes were red. That wasn't good. "Come on in. We were waiting for you." That definitely wasn't good. Jared wondered whether this had anything to do with why Evan hadn't been at school today.

Jared followed her into the living room, where he found a family that most definitely was not related to Evan. Zoe Murphy lifted her head to gaze at him limply, and Jared had to wonder why Evan's crush of two years was here.

"Hey," he said, turning to look at Heidi. "Where's Evan?"

A pained look flashed across Heidi's face. "Why don't you sit down, hon?" Oh no. Big oh no.

Jared hesitantly sat on the couch, trying desperately not to make some kind of joke to lighten the mood.

When nobody made a move to talk or say anything, though, he failed, as he often did. "Alright, why are you all so serious? Did somebody die, or something?"

This did not lighten the mood as he had hoped for. If anything, it got darker. The man sitting on the couch cleared his throat.

"Um, we realize that you don't know us, but Heidi told us how you know Evan, and Zoe said that you know Connor-"

"No, Dad," Zoe cut in sharply. "I said he knew of Connor. Nobody knew Connor."

"Zoe, we knew Connor-"

"Did we, Mom?" She snapped. "If we knew him so well, then why did none of your 'solutions' ever-"

"Zoe, can you please not do this right now-"

"Mom, you can't just-"

"Your mother said to drop it, Zoe."

"Dad, what the-"

"I'm sorry, what's going on?" Jared interrupted. "Where's Evan? And what does Connor have to do with anything?"

The man, Mr. Murphy, from what Jared could tell, blinked at him before clearing his throat. "I think, if you read this, it might help to explain what's happening," he said, holding out a folded up piece of crinkled paper. Jared looked back at Heidi, who nodded encouragingly, eyes still red, and then he was holding the small paper in his hands.

"What is this?"

"Just- Read it, Jared," Heidi insisted, eyes shiny. Jared reluctantly unfolded the paper and stared down at the words glaring up at him.

'Dear everyone and everything that led to this,

This is the kind of world you live in. The kind where people are forced to realize that their only choices are to die at someone else's hands, or their own. At least we don't have to make this decision alone. There are so many who've had to. Will have to.

Would you even remember us if we hadn't done it this way? Or would we just be two extra casualties in a shooting? Forgotten by everyone but our families in two weeks' time?

Open your eyes people. Things worse than this happen every day, to people who deserve it way less. Are you going to do something about it?

Sincerely,  
Connor Murphy and Evan Hansen'

Jared read it again.

And again.

He didn't like this.

He didn't get this.

He didn't want to get this.

"This- What is this?" He asked, voice devoid of sarcasm, lifting his head up to look at Heidi, whose face was blotchy, waiting for her to tell him that Evan was going to be a few minutes late to this weird gathering. Waiting for her to tell him that the reason Evan hadn't been at school today 2as that he got really sick. Waiting for her to tell him that this paper had been signed by some other Connor Murphy and Evan Hansen. Waiting for her to tell him that this gathering wasn't shaping up to be what he thought it was.

She did none of those things.

_______________________________________

Jared hadn't left his room for two days, except to use the restroom.

His mom was worried. He knew she was. She always made snacks when she worried. There was a pile of them on his desk.

He wasn't hungry.

For the first time since he'd hit thirteen years old, he wasn't hungry.

He knew that was part of the reason his mother was so worried.

Jared rolled over on his bed to stare at the wall. He closed his eyes as his brain took him back to the Hansen's living room.

"He's dead?" He had asked Heidi.

"Not yet."

Not yet.

But he would be. The Murphy's were paying for life support. Zoe had told him.

Jared had told her that Heidi wouldn't accept it for long.

Jared had known Heidi since he was a little kid. She was almost like a second mother to him. He knew that she was going to insist that the Murphy's let her pay for life support after a couple of weeks. She was stubborn. Jared had heard enough from the conversations he used to listen to his mother having that weren't meant for outside ears to hear to know that.

Jared used to admire that about her.

But with Evan's life hanging in the balance, did it really matter where the money came from?

Jared frowned and rolled over again.

Jared had been watching the news obsessively for hours on end the second he got home. The reporters and cops suspected it to be a terrorist attack, but from which country, they didn't know. As far as the police could tell, the shooter's getaway had been a no show, and so, the shooters had attempted to blow themselves up on the roof of the concert hall to avoid capture. One of them was alive, but in critical condition.

In the report Jared saw, the news anchor had mentioned that there were two special victims of the shooting, but their families didn't want their identities publicized. A few hours later, Evan and Connor's names had been broadcasted to the public, and not ten minutes later, Heidi and the Murphy's were on the news, being interviewed.

"We came to an agreement, although, it's technically not our decision," Mrs. Murphy had said. "Although Connor and Evan aren't dead yet, they wanted the world to see this. This is what they wanted everyone to see."

And the suicide note blew up.

On every news station. Every talk show. They called it "a powerfully written last statement."

It was everywhere, spreading like wildfire. He had gotten scores of texts from Alana Beck that had been left unread after the first one had asked "what do you, as Evan Hansen's best friend have to say, and do you have any information on Evan and Connor's relationship?"

No. He didn't.

At least Zoe was in a similar boat as him. They were the only two people who even sort of knew what the other was going through. Jared didn't know when it had happened, but she was the only person he'd been communicating with over the past two days. Almost three.

She hadn't gone back to school yet, either. "My parents want me to spend time with them for a few days," she had said on Tuesday, during a call that had gone from a quick check in on homework that neither of them had been at school to receive, to an eight hour vent session. "Heidi's coming, too. My mom's saying that it's important for us to stick together in 'times like this.'"

"You don't want to go, do you?" He had replied.

"I don't know. I feel like talking to you, more than I feel like talking to them."

"Why?"

"Because you get it. I know that you see Evan as a younger brother."

"Who said anything about-"

"I'm not deaf, Jared. I've seen how you are at school. I know you're not the nicest to him, but you defended him behind his back. We've both lost our brothers."

"They're not 'lost' yet," Jared had said, tone going numb.

"You sound like my mom," Zoe chuckled dryly. "'Quit talking about him like he's dead, Zoe.'"

"He isn't."

"Yet."

That one word. Yet. It kept circling around in his head. Yet. Not yet. Don't mourn him yet. He's not dead yet, Jared.

'Yet,' didn't matter. 'Yet,' didn't mean that Evan wasn't gone.

Jared hated that. He rolled over yet again. He was glad that it was the weekend tomorrow. He might not have been going to school, but he wasn't allowed more than three days off at a time, and he did not want to deal with a bunch of people right now. Not when they'd be talking. Connor Murphy had been involved after all. There would be lots of talking. Especially from Alana.

His screen lit up. 4pm. 'Zoe Calling.' He smiled slightly, grateful for the distraction.

"Hey."

"They want me to bring you," she said, and the smile immediately left his face.

"What?"

"We're going to go see them. Evan and Connor," she added, as if Jared hadn't known exactly who she'd been talking about. "Ms. Hansen wants you to come, too."

"I'm not ready."

"You think she is?"

Jared paused.

"You're the best connection she has to Evan right now, Jared. She's going to need you there."

"Is that why you're going? For your parents?"

"Don't make me answer that."

"Why are you going, Zoe? You know it's only going to hurt. You know what seeing him again will do."

"Of course I do!" She snapped. "Don't lecture me like I'm-" she stopped short. They both did.

"Look," Zoe said after a long pause. "I think it would be good. You know, to see them. It- it's important."

"I know. But I don't see why I have to-"

"Jared just- Do this for Heidi, okay? She's been saying that she wants to invite you to our gatherings, but she feels like that's crossing a line."

Jared sighed. He didn't want to. He didn't want to see them.

"Please? I'll pay for a meal after if we need it."

"Are you asking me out?"

"Jared Kleinman, you know very well that isn't what I'm doing."

"Fine, fine," he sighed. "I'll be there."  
_______________________________________

Zoe caught his eye the minute he walked into the waiting area. She was a bright spot of purple against an empty, white, wall.

"Hey," she greeted him.

"Hi. Why are you sitting by yourself?"

"Only two people are allowed in at a time," Zoe said as he sat down. "They made an exception for Heidi because she's Evan's mom. I told them I didn't mind waiting."

"Wait, they're in the same room?" Jared asked, turning to face her. Zoe nodded. "Doesn't that- That's against some sort of policy, isn't it?"

"The nurse said this was a special case. He wouldn't tell us why. He said the doctor would explain when we enter the room before giving us time with them alone." She stared down at the cuffs of her jeans, which were surprisingly blank, considering how she could often be found doodling on them. "I'm not sure I want to know why."

Jared nodded as he leaned back in his seat. "I'm with you on that one. Do you think it has something to do with the... you know?"

Zoe looked up at him blankly. Jared cleared his throat.

"The, well, the way they landed?"

Zoe continued to stare at him like he had grown a second head. "What are you talking about?"

"Are you kidding? It's been all over the news."

"I haven't watched the news."

"What-"

"Zoe," the voice of Mrs. Murphy called, interrupting. She rounded the corner to see the two of them sitting there. "Oh! Heidi, Jared's here." Heidi came into view, stepping to the side as Mr. Murphy entered as well.

All three of them had been crying. Jared knew because they all had the same expression his dad did when he was putting on a brave face. He really didn't want to do this.

"Hi, Jared," Heidi said, smile not even trying to reach her eyes. "How are you?"

Jared shrugged. Heidi pulled him into a hug. He returned it limply.

"You two must be the next ones to visit," a voice said, and Jared startled slightly as the nurse came into view. He smiled at them in that sort of way that one would expect from a nurse. "Come along."

"The three of us are going to go grab a bite to eat," Mrs. Murphy said. "You two just be back before eleven, okay?"

"Thanks, Mom," Zoe replied. "We will. Come on, Jared."

Jared made to follow her, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Heidi's eyes were shinier than Jared had ever seen them.

"I just- it's a lot to take in. When you walk in there. Just- just try to prepare yourself a little," Heidi said, clutching at the strap of her purse in a way that reminded Jared painfully of Evan.

He looked back at Zoe, whose face had gone stoic. He turned back to Heidi. "Okay." 

She let go of his shoulder, and he followed Zoe down the hall. They passed a lot of open doors as the nurse led them through the maze of white walls and elevators.

Jared looked at Zoe as he fell into step with her. She gave him a weak smile.

After about two minutes, the nurse had led them to a closed door. He turned to them both.

"I will say, it's a strange sight, the two of them," he said. "And even some of the doctors have been put out of sorts by how odd it is, so, if you two would like a moment to collect yourselves, just say the word."

Zoe turned to Jared. "Anything special you need?" Jared shook his head. "We'd like to go in, please."

The nurse nodded, and turned the handle. "You get twenty minutes. They need to be fed soon."

Jared wasn't paying attention.

He doubted Zoe was, either, given the strangled gasp that had just left her throat.

Their hospital beds had been pressed next to each other so that they were lying side by side, looking like they were simply resting. It was unnerving how unbothered they looked.

He had seen the pictures on the news. The ones circulating all around the internet. But there was one that had resonated with the public the most.

It had been reminiscent of Evelyn McHale's picture. The girl people called the most beautiful suicide. Jared had done a presentation on her in 7th grade.

But Evan and Connor's picture was different, and, arguably, a thousand times more haunting. Curled towards each other, hands intertwined, eyes closed like a couple sleeping on a lazy afternoon. The only thing that ruined the peaceful image was the concrete beneath them.

Jared couldn't help but to think of that picture now, staring at Connor and Evan's intertwined hands. Couldn't help but to think of Alana Beck's texts. Couldn't help but to think of what everyone was calling them

Our deadly quiet wake up call. The impact that shattered what remained of the world's rose colored glasses. The reminder we need to see clearly.

Or as Alana had so eloquently phrased for Jared: "The boys who have fallen so that the world might not."

Jared had so not been ready to see this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Let me know what you think in the comments section below! As ways, constructive criticism is welcomed, and hate will be ignored.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes? No? Leave a comment to tell me what you think. As always, constructive criticism is welcome, hate will be ignored.


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